


We are Damned in the Night

by BigFoot175



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Explosions, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Imperialism, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Jedi Code (Star Wars), Mando'a, Planet Naboo (Star Wars), Undercover Missions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:21:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23592259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BigFoot175/pseuds/BigFoot175
Summary: *Title taken from the songSanctified with Dynamiteby Powerwolf.**If you see that I've updated the work, but there are no extra chapters, I've probably just edited the formatting or grammar or something.*Sent on an undercover mission to infiltrate a minor politician's gala, Ezra and Sabine unearth information that could either save the fledgling Rebel Alliance... or destroy it.Follow the adventures of Ezra Bridger and Sabine Wren as they go from being "known terrorists" to the very top of the ISB's shavit-list on a mission where stormtroopers, space pirates, and skimpy dresses are the least of their worries!
Relationships: Ezra Bridger/Sabine Wren
Comments: 32
Kudos: 57





	1. 3... 2... 1... And Here We Go!

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, readers, I'm BigFoot: bibliophile, metalhead, gamer, and lover of everything Star Wars! *casually shunts the sequels out the airlock*  
> This is my first offering on the altar to the fanfic gods, and with any kind of luck it won't be my last.  
> Please comment down below, I'd love to hear from you, and concrit is worth its weight in gold!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ezra and Sabine start an adventure.

Ezra Bridger stood in the companion way of the Ghost and frowned. On the one hand, he needed to pack for an upcoming recon op (for which he'd have to turn right, into the quarters he and Zeb shared), but on the other, he could feel frustration radiating off Sabine in ever-increasing waves.  
Ezra had always done his best to respect the privacy of Sabine's mind, but every now and again, he'd accidentally catch snippets of her thoughts.  
_Where is it? Where is it? Where IS IT?!_  
Steeling himself for a potentially explosive situation - Sabine was, after all, Mandalorian - Ezra knocked on her hatch and called out, "Need a hand?"  
Something inside Sabine's quarters crashed, followed by Sabine muttering a litany of choice words in Mando'a, some which Ezra filed away for later reference. Finally, Sabine's hatch opened to reveal her room in disarray. She was wearing a tank-top that was most certainly _not_ mission appropriate, and judging by the way she wore it both inside-out and back-to-front, it had obviously been put on in haste.  
"You lost something." Ezra stated.  
"How'd you…? Never mind. Jedi." Sabine held up her hand and wiggled her fingers.  
"Yeah, I'm looking for a visor attachment that goes on my helmet. It's better for recon than my usual range-finder." Sabine answered.  
"You mean like the ones on some Clone helmets I've seen kicking around in surplus stores every now and then?" Ezra asked.  
"Yeah, similar, but Mandalorian ones have a few extra functions." Sabine nodded.  
"Well, I'll go finish packing and let you put your shirt on properly. And before you ask, yes, I know that came out weird. You know what I mean. Give me a yell when you're ready, and I'll help you look for your visor."

It didn't take Ezra long to pack. He just threw a couple of changes of clothes, his toiletries, and his weathered old second (or two-hundredth) hand DL-44 blaster into a duffel bag, checked the power cell on his lightsaber, and he was ready to go.  
"Ok, Ezra, I'm ready!" Sabine called out.  
Ezra called back an acknowledgement and crossed the companion way into Sabine's quarters (she'd already opened her hatch again) and glanced around.  
_Your eyes can deceive you. Don't trust them. Stretch out with your feelings._  
It was one of the oldest lessons Ezra had learned from Kanan. Deciding his eyes would be useless, Ezra stretched out, eyes half-lidded as he focused on his surroundings through the Force.  
_Distance is an Illusion. If you need something, you've only got to reach out and grab it._  
There was a satisfying tug in the Force, followed by a meaty smack as the missing visor flew into his outstretched hand. He opened his eyes and held the visor out to Sabine.  
"Since when could you do that?" Sabine asked.  
"It's new. Remember when I went on that jailbreak mission a few weeks ago? Well, while I was locked up, I went over some old lessons and as I was meditatin, the Force made me think of the implications of what happens when I throw some of those teachings together." Ezra answered.  
"You spend too much time incarcerated."  
"It's good meditation time. Besides, you and I both know there isn't an Imperial prison that could hold me." Ezra grinned lopsidedly as he stepped out of Sabine's quarters.  
"I'll be waiting out by the _Gauntlet_. No rush, we're still ahead of schedule." He called over his shoulder, retrieving his luggage and sliding down the ladder.

True to his word, Ezra was out by the _Gauntlet_ when Sabine arrived, followed closely by Zeb (who had been leg-roped into carrying her luggage), Chopper (who kept up a running commentary about the general stupidity of his Meat Bags), and Kanan and Hera (who walked hand in hand). Sabine was kitted down, preferring to get into character for her cover story - a prissy rich-girl from some small, moneyed up family in the Mid-Rim, ostensibly attending what Ezra jokingly called a Silver Spoon party. Massassi Group high command had already got the documents forged for her. In place of her usual distinctive armor, she wore an airy, flowing purple dress with a figure-hugging bodice and heart-shaped neckline. Around her waist was a sash that looked like authentic gold weave with the sort of value that would have fed Ezra for more than a year back when he was a street urchin.  
She'd put in hair extensions and dyed her hair black fading to purple, worn in an ornate braid that started at her bangs and wound around the back of her head before coming to a heavy, complicated tail end that rested on her left shoulder. Ezra did a double take and nearly forgot to scoop his jaw up off the flight deck.  
"Well, look at you out of armor, and wearing a dress to boot! I guess I owe Zeb fifty credits now." Ezra joked, fishing in his pocket before tossing Zeb a stack of coins. Fifty credits to witness Sabine in a dress was money well-spent in Ezra's _highly_ unbiased opinion. Her answering punch to his shoulder was also well worth it.  
"For the record, I hate dresses. They make it so hard to hide a respectable load out." Sabine griped.  
"Let me guess, your WESTARs are strapped to your thighs, you're hiding a vibroblade in your sash, and a thermal detonator… somewhere. Not sure where, exactly, all I know is, you flatly refuse to go anywhere without any explosives." Ezra quipped.  
"Don't ask where I'm keeping the detonator. I don't think your security clearance is high enough." Sabine smirked as she sashayed past him up the _Gauntlet's_ ramp.  
It took every ounce of willpower and self-discipline for Ezra not to follow the sway of her hips too closely.  
"Hey, Ezra," Kanan called, beckoning his Padawan over, "A word in private?"  
"Sure." Ezra answered, following his mentor to a relatively empty patch of landing pad.  
"These are just a precaution." Kanan admonished, handing over a box of prophylactics. "What happens on mission stays on mission. Don't give me that look, I was your age once and I know what sort of trouble you might get into. Besides, it gives Hera peace of mind."  
"Alright, but odds are you'll be getting these back unopened." Ezra sighed, pocketing the box discreetly.  
"I would tell you to put your money where your mouth is, but that'd be like taking candy from a baby." Kanan joked, clapping Ezra on the shoulder as they rejoined the rest of their motley family.  
"Be safe, Ezra. I obviously don't need to tell you to watch out for Sabine." Hera instructed, pulling Ezra into an embrace.  
"I will. I'll check in with you every day unless I tell you otherwise." Ezra assured her.  
"That's my boy." Hera smiled, releasing her adoptive son.  
Ezra moved on to Zeb next. "You'll have your room back for a few days. Don't moult on my bunk, and definitely don't go looking for that bottle of whiskey behind the loose panel of the port-side bulkhead." Ezra Winked.  
"Oh, but whiskey is my poison!" Zeb groaned, playing along with the joke. "Anyway, kit, don't get dead out there. I'd rather share a drink with you than pour a libation over a plaque." the Lasat added somberly.  
"I'll hold you to that, big guy." Ezra grinned as the two warriors clasped wrists. Finally, Ezra followed Sabine up the _Gauntlet's_ boarding ramp.

The _Gauntlet_ was a medium sized vessel of Mandalorian design, with a long central pod and two angular wings into which the engines were built. Ezra and Sabine had already repainted it orange and blue, a far cry from the red and black its previous owner had preferred.  
"Thank you for flying Air Bridger. Please be seated and wear your seatbelt for the takeoff sequence. The only exit is the aft ramp. In the event of an emergency, panic quietly." Ezra recited with a grin as he started the takeoff process and coordinated with air traffic control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's the first chapter out of the way. I'm honestly surprised I grew the _gett'se_ to post this.


	2. Your Mission, Should You Choose To Accept It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dynamic Duo are briefed on their mission.  
> Also, Sabine hates being out of armor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Certiv, I've been looking for you. Got something I'm s'posed to deliver - your hands only. Now let's see here...

Three hyperspace jumps, two scrambled transponder codes, and a near-collision later, the Gauntlet floated in empty space above the pristine world of Naboo.  
Ezra sat at the helm and looked with wide-eyed wonder at the rolling fields and forests of green interspersed with glittering azure lakes and seas.  
Ezra felt a slight tug in the Force moments before the cockpit hatch opened behind him. He dragged his gaze away from the world below, and observed Sabine sauntering in, trying to gauge her mood. By the way she sat down rigidly on the edge of the copilot’s chair, her expression carefully schooled into neutrality, Ezra decided it was best to tread lightly around her.  
“You good? If you want, you can disappear out back and make yourself comfortable. I’ll take notes on the briefing for you.” Ezra offered.  
“Thanks, Ez, but I need to be here just in case.” Sabine replied  
Ezra nodded, deciding to drop the issue. Once made up, Sabine’s mind was impossible to change. Instead, he turned back to the console and pinged the frequency he’d been given to alert the Fulcrum network that he and Sabine were in position and ready for further orders.  
Moments later, the incoming transmission light blinked. Ezra answered the call, eyes widening when an older gentleman with grey hair and an equally grey goatee and mustache materialized above the projector.  
“Viceroy.” Ezra acknowledged, sticking to the no-names policy all Fulcrum transmissions adhered to.  
“Spectre Four, Six, it’s good to see you well.” Viceroy Organa smiled. “As you know, the Imperial Security Bureau is always on the look-out for opportunities to disrupt our operations. What you don’t know is that in the past two standard months, there has been a fifty-three percent spike in Fulcrum casualty rates. We’ve kept this carefully under wraps because if word got out that our intelligence network was compromised, it would be a serious blow to the morale and recruiting capabilities of the rest of the Alliance.”  
“And you want us to find what’s compromised the network and either report back, or eliminate the threat if possible.” Ezra interjected.  
“Precisely.” Organa smiled, “In two weeks time, Major Vidian Osk, a rising star in ISB circles, is holding a gala to celebrate Aldaraan’s New Hope festival. The gala is a cover story for a high-profile meeting of ISB agents. Your job is to begin your investigation there. You have carte-blanche to do as you see fit in rooting out the threat and neutralizing it.” Organa elaborated.  
“Sabine, you will play the part of Winama Naberrie, daughter of Darred and Sola Naberrie, and debutante to the Court of the Old Families - an organisation of noble houses ranging from the Core Worlds to the Mid Rim. Ezra, you are Robal Denta, Winama Naberrie’s security detail. You will both spend two weeks with Darred and Sola Naberrie, familiarizing yourselves with your cover identities, and then you will attend Major Osk’s gala and proceed with the mission. Any questions?”  
“One question, Sir. Why us? I mean, not that we’re not grateful for the trust and opportunity you’ve given us, but surely there are other, better qualified agents for this.” Ezra asked.  
“I chose you because Sabine is of House Wren, and therefore will know what’s expected of her already as a noble-woman. You are on the mission because of your abilities as a Jedi, and because you two have a history of working well together.” Organa answered.  
Ezra nodded, satisfied.  
“I’m sending you the case files, which include more detail on your cover stories, as well as possible persons of interest, an emergency contact and pass-code, and the frequency of your handler for this operation. May the Force be With You.” Organa concluded.  
“And with you.” Ezra responded with a nod of finality before Organa cut the transmission.

“Theed Traffic Control, this is the _Gauntlet_ requesting permission to land.” Ezra said, nudging the ship into a holding pattern circling the city below.  
“This is Theed ATC, please transmit your transponder code and cargo manifest.”  
“Transmitting now.” Ezra confirmed, hands flying over the control console with practiced ease.  
There was a pause.  
“ _Gauntlet_ , you are cleared to land. Proceed to docking bay ninety-four.” the air traffic controller instructed.  
“Acknowledged, Control.” Ezra replied as he went through the landing sequence.  
When the Gauntlet touched down, Ezra met Sabine at the boarding ramp and together they descended to meet a paunchy port official in a maroon and gold suit.  
“That will be two hundred credits to dock your vessel. Any items you bring with you off the vessel will have to go through Customs, which is just over there. We have a porter service which starts at thirty credits if you so desire.”  
Ezra procured one of the two thin rectangular bank tokens he and Sabine had been given for the mission.  
“I’ll take you up on that porter service, and could you also please refuel my ship?” he asked.  
“Certainly, sir.” the official smiled, scanning the token through his Point-of-Sale terminal and beckoning one of the porters over.  
The porter who came was a blond woman in her late twenties with a sunny disposition and a bright, wholesome Force presence. Ezra unconsciously relaxed a little, allowing his left hand to drift away from the holdout blaster in his back pocket.  
“The luggage is in the ward room. You can’t miss it.” Ezra instructed.  
“Thanks. I’ll be right back.” the cheery porter beamed, heading up the ramp.  
Sabine stood next to him, her arms crossed and hugging her waist. Her Force presence swirled anxiously as she eyed the space port’s other patrons.  
“Don’t worry, Sabine. I’ve got your six.” Ezra said, putting his arm around her shoulders.  
“What I would give to have my _beskar’gam_ on right now.” Sabine complained.  
_Ah._ Thought Ezra. _So that’s what all this is about._  
Sabine once told him about how a Mandalorian’s armor is part of their identity, a second skin.  
_Sabine probably feels naked without it. It’d be like me going without my lightsaber!_ He reflected, patting the left side of his jacket to confirm that his ‘saber was still there.

After Ezra, Sabine, and their luggage had passed through Customs, Ezra pulled out his communicator and dialed in one of the frequencies he’d been given.  
A slender, dark-haired woman with fair skin appeared above the projector.  
“Sola Naberrie, here.” the woman stated.  
“By the Light of Lothal’s Moons.” Ezra recited the pass phrase.  
“Ah, Fulcrum. I was wondering when you would arrive. I’ll send my driver around to retrieve you and your things. He’ll be about half an hour.” Sola said.  
“Thank you. We’ll see you when we get there.” Ezra nodded, ending the call.  
Glancing around quickly, Ezra picked up his duffel bag and slung the strap over his shoulder before lifting Sabine’s luggage with some help from the Force. He was always cautious, even about less-overt uses of his powers and especially when he was in unknown, Imperial-occupied territory.  
“Let’s go grab some lunch.” Ezra suggested.  
“ _Gar guur’ skraan._ ” Sabine chuckled, shaking her head slightly.  
“Don’t give me that. You know as well as I do that Hera would have our hides if we didn’t act all responsible and have three square a day.” Ezra shot back, already following his nose towards a vendor selling something delicious and deep-fried.  
“‘Responsible’ he says, as he heads for the heart-attack on a stick.” Sabine joked.  
“Right, because you have the moral high-ground with your rate of caf consumption. I’m surprised you don’t bleed caf!” Ezra retorted.  
Sabine spluttered indignantly, struggling to find a comeback.  
“Those paint fumes finally gone to your head?” Ezra quipped.  
Sabine’s only reply was to punch Ezra’s shoulder.  
_Ezra: 1138, Sabine: 5052. I’m catching up!_  
Ezra hid his smirk as he tallied the Score they’d been keeping ever since he’d joined the crew of the Ghost.  
They ended up ordering the deep-fried food anyway. Ezra knew Sabine couldn’t resist his ‘tooka-eyes’, and that she hated the fact she couldn’t resist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a li'l something for y'all. I still haven't decided on an update schedule, so until I do settle on one, updates may take anywhere between a a day or a week.  
>  On another note, I hope everyone's staying safe and healthy during these trying times.
> 
> Mando'a translations:  
> 
> 
>   * _Beskar'gam_ \- Mandalorian armor, made from the rare, lightsaber resistant Beskar iron.
>   * _Gar guur’ skraan_ \- literally 'You love your food'
> 



	3. Look At This Photograph

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ezra and Sabine arrive at the Naberrie estate.  
> Ezra talks to Sola Naberrie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You want a refund? Here! Here's your Nickelback!

The ride out to the Naberrie estate was quiet. The wind was chilly, so Ezra - being careful not to expose his lightsaber - shucked his jacket and offered it to Sabine, who accepted it with a grateful nod.  
Ezra left Sabine to her thoughts as he himself contemplated the rolling pastures they flew through. Dotted here and there were farmsteads, crops, and livestock, and pristine waterways were common. In the distance, a dense rainforest full of life shone a bright beacon into the ambient Force, and Ezra basked in its spiritual warmth.  
Eventually, they arrived at the estate and were shown to guest suites to freshen up after their travels.  
After days spent in the spartan confines of a Mandalorian-built warship, Ezra truly relished the opportunity for a real, hot water shower as opposed to the quick, no-frills sonics of shipboard life.  
After showering and changing into smart-casual attire, Ezra sat on the end of his bed, crossed his legs, and meditated while he waited for dinner.  
The Force felt unusual here. Tension simmered beneath a veneer of calm, a muted undercurrent of fear and sadness that permeated through the house and surrounding grounds.  
Ezra frowned, perturbed by the cryptic revelation.  
Deciding to investigate, Ezra ended his meditation and slipped out of his room.  
The Naberrie household was colored in an earthen style and decorated with artworks and family portraits, giving the environ a cosy, family-home vibe.  
As Ezra explored, the Force tugged his gaze towards a particular holograph. The image depicted a petite young woman in her twenties joined by his and Sabine's current hostess, Sola, as well as an older couple who were presumably Sola's parents, two young girls standing in front of Sola and her husband, Darred, and a tall, blond, tanned man who looked about Ezra's age, sporting traditional Jedi robes and a Padawan braid.  
Ezra's eyes widened, surprised. He'd seen recordings of Anakin Skywalker giving lectures on lightsaber combat as a Jedi Knight on Kanan's now-destroyed Holocron.  
Ezra was so focused on the image that he missed the disturbance in the Force warning him he'd been flanked.  
"My sister, Padmé Naberrie, known to the Galaxy at large first as Queen, and then as Senator Amidala. This was taken shortly before the Clone Wars. Someone tried to take her life before she could vote against the Military Creation Act that saw the official commissioning of the Clones and the militarization of the Republic. The Jedi was Anakin Skywalker, a friend of hers from the time of the Naboo Blockade crisis. He had a reckless streak half a parsec wide, and he was completely head over heels for Padmé. If I were a gambler, my money would be on him being the father of her children, twins unfortunately stillborn as she…" Sola's voice trembled, cracked, and she looked down, muttering an apology.  
"If your sister loved a Jedi, she would be at least passingly familiar with their teachings." Ezra commented, elaborating, "The last line of the Jedi Code states 'There is no death. There is the Force.' The Jedi taught that life didn't end with physical death, but that the spirit joined with the Force, an energy field that surrounds us and penetrates us, and binds the Galaxy together. Without the Force, life could not exist." Ezra said as a comfort offering.  
"Funny, you sound like a Jedi." Sola observed.  
"What can I say? I'm a Rebel. I learned to read by studying 'seditious texts'." Ezra shrugged, offering the middle-aged woman a lopsided smile.  
"Your daughters, I haven't seen them around. Nor your husband, for that matter." The young man asked.  
"Ryoo is studying to be a cardiologist. Pooja is the current Senator for the Chommell Sector. Darred's at work; he's an architect." Sola explained.  
"Well, Darred and 'Winama' should get along like a house on fire. She's an artist, among other things, and appreciates any medium of self-expression." Ezra replied.  
"And you, Robal, what are your interests?"  
"Reading. I grew up on the streets for a bit, until my new family took me in, so reading has always been a bit of a luxury. I also collect helmets - scout trooper, pilot, snow trooper, infantry, hell, I've even got an old Clone Phase One ARC Trooper helmet that's seen more battles than I've had hot dinners!" Ezra chuckled. "I give most of them to Winama to paint. Kind of like one of our ways of sticking it to the system."  
"You sound like you've had a hard life." Sola commented.  
"It hasn't been easy, but nothing worth doing ever is." Ezra said.  
"Well put, Mister Denta. Well put, indeed. And on that note, I had better start making dinner."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmmmmmm...  
> I wonder how Sola could affect the story?


	4. Enjoying the View

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ezra trains, then gets a rude awakening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit, guys, this one _fought_ with me. It just didn't want to be written!  
> Honestly, this thing fought tooth and nail, it pretty much deserves its own Sabaton song!  
> Honestly, I went through so many iterations of this, different scenarios, the works. To be honest, I'm still not entirely satisfied with it, but if we all indulged our OCD (argh, why isn't it CDO????) and perfectionism, then we'd get sweet fuck-all done.  
> So without further faffing about, here!  
> Again, sorry for the absolutely massive delay. Chapters should come a bit faster now, but fair warning: on August 24th, I'm off to a six week course run by the New Zealand Defense Force (we're over our lockdown, and the only cases of the 'Rona are all in managed self-isolation. Just thought I'd flex that on ya!), and I'm hoping it'll be my back door into the Navy (I applied a while ago, but was turned down for medical reasons. Well that ain't good enough! As an IT guy, I know there's _always_ a workaround).  
> So, with that in mind, do expect another delay, but it'll only be for six weeks, starting 24/08/20.

The next two weeks were a blur of court etiquette lessons, security protocols, and training Ezra out of his drawling Outer Rim accent. The last time Ezra worked so hard was when he'd desperately scrambled to hone his skills before facing the Inquisitors again.  
He would often rise at oh-five-hundred local time, review previous lessons, have breakfast at oh-seven-hundred, then work with House Naberrie's head of security, a dark-skinned, gray-haired, one-eyed, stern man by the name of Panaka.  
On one of the first days, Panaka had set up a firing range for Ezra to practice.  
When Ezra shot each target dead centre and moved on to the next in the blink of an eye, Panaka gave little more than a satisfied grunt.  
The melee weapons drills included staves and batons.  
At first, Ezra was put off by the unfamiliar heft and balance of the weapons, but he soon adjusted, putting Panaka on the mat with a leg sweep. Panaka grunted, satisfied once again.  
The next phase had been to train Ezra in security protocols. Each night when Ezra went to bed tired and sore from the day's exertions, a constant stream of scenario diagrams, secure frequencies, clearance codes, and a hundred other minutiae played out on the backs of his eye lids.  
In the middle of the new training regime, Ezra and Sabine got two days off.  
The first morning, Sabine burst into his room and dragged him forcibly out of bed.  
"Great. I was enjoying that dream." Ezra groused, finally getting his feet under him.  
"Oh, anything I should know about?" Sabine asked, side-eying him with a mischievous grin.  
"It was about this girl I've been on missions with a few times." Ezra answered, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.  
"Ew, gross!" Sabine protested, faking a gag as she punched his shoulder, "and who have you been on missions with besides me?"  
Ezra's only answer was a sly smirk and a wink.  
With the Force, he tugged his clothes out of their storage compartments and turned his back to Sabine as he stripped off his nightshirt, knowing she was smart enough to get the hint.  
When Ezra Ezra glanced back over his shoulder to find Sabine casually leaning against the furniture and running an appraising gaze over him, he cocked an eyebrow.  
"Just admiring the view." Sabine answered his unspoken question.  
"Should I put some music on? Do a little dance?" Ezra asked, wiggling his rear seductively.  
"You're awful!" Sabine chuckled, flipping him off as she left him to get dressed.  
Ezra frowned slightly.  
_What was that really about?_ He wondered.  
His first thought, that Sabine had been flirting with him, was discarded immediately. Ezra knew he was objectively attractive to most women (and some men, if Alliance Navy scuttlebutt was to be believed), so he was used to women 'enjoying the view' as Sabine put it.  
Besides, Ezra himself would have been lying if he didn't admit to finding women other than Sabine attractive. That didn't mean he wanted a relationship with them, or even a casual fling. But it didn't stop him from seeing who was available.  
_Maybe Sabine was just doing the same with me._ Ezra pondered, doing up his belt and sliding into his jacket.  
_It probably doesn't really mean anything. Best to forget about it._ Ezra concluded as he stepped out of his room to face the day.


	5. In Your Head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our dynamic duo explore Theed and discuss a practice run for their main objective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry this chapter is SUPER late!  
> I was away on a six week youth development course run by the New Zealand Defense Force (three guesses where I'm from), so the internet was a distant memory while I was subject to the tender mercies of a cadre of NCOs.  
>  _"BigFoot, what were you, the human embodiment of a stick figure, doing anywhere near the military?"_ I hear you lot ask.  
> Well, it's a long story with plenty of drama, a COVID scare, three field training exercises, and a bunch of misguided youth between the ages of 17 and 24 coming together as a family to form the Mighty One Platoon! If anyone's keen for me to spin a proper yarn about it, hit me up in the comments!

Theed was a beautiful city of majestic buildings, wide thoroughfares, narrow, windy alleyways that led to quaint boutique stores and cafés, artfully curated gardens and statuaries, with lots of parks and fountains not far from the central district.  
There were museums and art galleries, and monuments and chapels, and a mausoleum to the late Senator and former Queen, Amidala. The taint of the Dark Side seemed to linger in the mausoleum's halls.  
Ezra suppressed a shudder, wondering what Senator Amidala would want with anything to do with the Dark Side when, by all accounts, she was a staunch ally of the Jedi Order.  
There was a guided tour of Theed Palace. Once again, the miasma of the Dark Side lingered in the hangar, though much weaker than at Amidala's mausoleum.  
"It was from this very hangar that the final stage of Queen Amidala's war against the Trade Federation occupation began." The guide continued to explain how a swarm of old N1 Starfighters escaped the hangar and engaged the control ship in orbit above Naboo, while the young Queen and her entourage split off to recapture the throne room.  
"Were there any Jedi involved in the battle at all?" Ezra asked.  
"There were." The guide confirmed, "Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn and his apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and future Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker. Rumor has it there was a fourth who was trained in the Jedi Arts, but worked with the Trade Federation. He was a shadowy figure with a red and black face and a crown of horns, or so the legend goes."  
_Maul was here?_ Ezra wondered, scanning the hangar carefully as he instinctively reached for his lightsaber.  
Sabine put her arm through his and shook her head. To any outsiders, Ezra and Sabine looked like any other young couple in the Galaxy. Despite stopping him and covering his slip-up, Ezra noticed Sabine's eyes darting around the room as well, her free hand creeping closer to where she presumably kept one of her blasters.  
Ezra shook himself out of his reverie in time to follow the tour group, mentally reminding himself that he'd felt Maul die, that he'd _felt_ the beginnings of whatever training bond Maul had established snap and shrivel away until the last vestige was a faded scar on Ezra's mind.

After the guided tour, Ezra and Sabine shared lunch at the Market.  
The market was lively, the air suffused with the scents of a hundred different dishes. It was hard to be heard over the constant hubbub of hawkers advertising their wares, of customers and merchants making offers and counter offers, of children shrieking with delight as they played, darting through the crowd and barely avoiding being trodden on.  
The ambient Force felt light and airy, reflecting the general contentment of the crowd.  
"So," Sabine began between mouthfuls of supposedly authentic Chalactan curry, "Next weekend is the Theed Summer Fête."  
"Knowing the silver spoons around these parts, there'll be some kind of ball to go with it. It’d be good for practice." Ezra commented.  
"Have you been reading my mind again?" Sabine asked, a note of playful warning coloring her voice.  
"If I have, it's because you're so determined to mentally deafen every Force Sensitive this side of the Hydian Way." Ezra retorted.  
"My thoughts are _not_ that loud!" Sabine protested, fixing Ezra with a glare.  
“You’re _Mando’ad_. Everything about you is loud - your armour, your art, the way you’re a fight just waiting for someone to join in. Also, you have a tendency to...” Ezra paused, searching for the right word, “ _sprawl_ in the Force. Sometimes it feels like there's more of you than me in my head.”  
Sabine gasped, her scandalized expression shifting, after a moment, to sly. She regarded Ezra with narrowed eyes.  
"Do I want to know what goes on in your head?" Sabine asked.  
"Careful." Ezra cautioned, smiling lop-sidedly as an old Lothali idiom coming to mind. "Curiosity killed the Loth-cat."  
Sabine returned his grin, familiar with the saying after spending so long herself on Lothal.  
“But satisfaction brought it back.” She completed the expression.  
Ezra sighed, shaking his head as he finished his meal.  
“All jokes aside, Sabine, trust me on this one: sometimes my head’s not a nice place to be. It’s bad enough I have to deal with it, let alone inflicting it all on anyone else.”  
Absentmindedly, Ezra rubbed the thin line of scar tissue on the inside of his right arm; a memento of the last time he’d crossed Blades with Darth Vader on Malachor. He mentally shied away from the thought of a rematch.  
Sabine noticed the motion and dropped the subject.  
“Anyway, enough moping. I saw an art supplies stall that way, and there’s an Imperial Recruiting Office just begging to be redecorated.” Ezra said with more bravado than he felt, pushing himself to his feet and gathering up their rubbish.  
“Lead the way, _Vod_.” Sabine smiled again, her eyes gleaming mischievously.


End file.
